


Lt Mayhew, Reporting

by Aoife



Series: Tumblr Archive [1]
Category: Honor Harrington Series - David Weber
Genre: Era: Solarian-Manticoran War, Future Fic, Post the Formation of Grande Fleet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Aoife





	Lt Mayhew, Reporting

“Lester?”

“Yes, Admiral Harrington?”

“You were still looking for a flag lieutenant, weren’t you?”

“I maybe, m’lady.” If it wasn’t for how good the junior officers Honor chose to shepherd the careers of, he would have told her to fuck off regardless of their respective positions in Grande Fleet’s Order of Battle.

“Before I tell you who, Lester, have a look at the file I just sent you.” The file had popped open on his com terminal, and he scanned it quickly while Nimitz and his own ‘cat leant in and had a _very_ fast hand-sign babble.

He raised his eyebrow at what he was reading, and ran down a mental list of her possible proteges that it could be, but came up short; the two mostly likely suspects were both with Tenth Fleet, in stable staff postings. But whoever it was, their scores and reports looked _excellent_.

And then he saw the comment about the ‘cat. Hipper. Where did he knew that name from? It was a human name, which meant bond rather than assignment.

“A senior grade lieutenant with a ‘cat, m’lady?” Before Honor could speak, Lurks in Braches turned his head and signed a demanding “Who?!”

Lester reached out and scratched behind his ‘cat’s nearer ear.

“Hipper.” The answer came from Honor. “His human -” the corner of her mouth twitched. “- will you consider her for the post, Lester?”

He found himself nodding, intrigued.

“Good. She’s actually here to visit me, so I’ll send her across later today.” The com blinked off and he was left somewhat bemused. His ‘cat bleeked and he waved a finger at him.

“You know who it is, don’t you, trouble-maker?”

The ‘cat cocked his head. “I do. But I agree with Dances on Clouds. Better you meet Star Daughter first.”

* * *

The moment he set eyes on the tiny lieutenant with a ‘cat even bigger than Nimitz riding her shoulder, he was fairly sure he knew exactly who she was (and that if he was to lean out of his ready room’s door, he’d find an armsman in red-and-yellow opposite his normal marine sentry). It certainly explained why Honor had been reluctant to name her.

He suppressed the other reaction, the thought that she was a very pretty woman, that now - he stomped on that _hard_.

Her ‘cat chittered gleefully and launched himself off her shoulder to land with a thump next to his own. The look that flashed across that very pretty face made his decision for him. It was equal parts ruefulness and embarrassment and knowing that this was going to end in disappointment. She regained control of her expression very quickly; if he hadn’t become used to watching people to guard his back against State Sec, he’d have probably missed it.

He fired questions at her rapidly anyway, testing her knowledge of Havenite doctrine and it’s differences to that of Grayson and Manticoran - to have just accepted her would have left her with a certain amount of self-doubt he suspected.

Standing up behind his desk, a smile itching to escape, he offered Rachel Mayhew his hand. “Welcome aboard, Miss Mayhew.”

The ‘cats bleeked in delight, and he almost laughed when the two of them high-fived each other. His moustache obviously twitched slightly, because Rachel gave in and facepalmed.

“I have the feeling Hipper and Lurks in Branches are going to be insufferable. Sir.” Her voice was muffled, and it felt odd being addressed that way by the soft, Grayson-accented voice of what was effectively one of the princesses-of-the-blood of this once-unthinkable alliance. But he’d had time to process; for the most part the difference between the Legislaturists and Manticore and Grayson’s overt aristocracy was in the noblesse oblige that most of them seemed to be fed with their mother’s milk. There were exceptions; there were exceptions in any system, but he didn’t think this Miss Mayhew was one of them.

* * *

“She is as good as her file claims, isn’t she, Dame Honor?” They rarely bothered with all of the social niceties these days; several years of working together within the structure of Grande Fleet, peeling systems off the League on top of how they’d treated _each_ other when they’d been prisoners of war had left them with no need for them.

“She is. If it wasn’t for the Keys obstinance about female heirs, she’d have made Grayson at least as good a Protector as her father.” He raised an eyebrow; from her that was high praise indeed, and he remembered Honor’s lesson on Grayson for his staff. Benjamin IX was probably in the top three Protectors that Grayson had ever had.

“So which of your _Machiavellian_ purposes will she be serving, Lady Harrington, on my Staff?” Honor threw her head back and laughed out loud. He sat there with one eyebrow raised, and watched Nimitz thwack her lightly.

“State Sec made you paranoid Les. I just thought that given her, uh, character - and Hipper’s for that matter - she’d learn more from you than almost anyone else.” the unspoken thought that followed that statement was “ _and I’m matchmaking, just a little, Les. State Sec taught you to not form close relationships, and you’ve not really broken that habit, have you? You don’t trust that if someone gets close to you, that they won’t be punished for it._ ”


End file.
